


Friday Night

by Idnis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkwardness, Boys In Love, Demisexual Boy, Demisexual Character, Demisexuality, First Kiss, High School, M/M, Neighbors, Teen Romance, Teenagers, They're both nerds, also the movie ten things i hate about you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-28 21:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idnis/pseuds/Idnis
Summary: Albert has lived across the street from Thomas Holmes for 7 years.In all those years, they've only talked a handful of times.Until one Friday night, when there's a party, and Albert is dared to kiss Thomas.
Relationships: Thomas Holmes/Albert Meadows
Comments: 77
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> How very sweet of you to check out my original writing ♡ 
> 
> This is set in the same universe as my other short story "Two Things". BUT you don't need to have read that one to read this one! Unless you're really curious about how Car & Star got together :) 
> 
> Also! I'd like to thank the super amazing [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjosten) for beta'ing ♡
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

** _Friday Night_ **

It's Friday night, and there’s a party in the neighbourhood.   
With the neighbourhood kids.   
  
Though if they knew Albert called some of them ‘kids’ in his mind, they’d probably throw a fit.   
  
The music is loud, but not absurdly so. The house, however, is weirdly dark. The dim lights give off the impression that they’re going to do improper things, instead of simply playing _Just Dance_ and _Mario Kart _all night.  
  
Albert looks around.   
  
Everyone from Falcon North is gathered in the Gibson house.   
It’s at the edge of the neighbourhood. You’d think it would make more sense for a neighbourhood party to be held in a house in the middle of the area,   
but now they can blast the music as loudly as they want.   
  
“Hey, Albert!” Lea Petersen calls out when he walks into the backyard. She’s sitting on one of the lounge chairs, her dark hair in two braids and a red cup in her hand.   
  
“Hey, Petersen,” Albert says, and walks over to her. “How’s it going?”   
  
“Good, good. Just enjoying a night with people who get me, you know.”   
  
Not really.  
Albert doesn’t feel like a lot of people get him.   
But he guesses he’s not the only seventeen year old teenager who thinks that.  
  
"Yeah," he says. "Nothing lifts the spirits like loud music, alcohol, and rebellious teenagers."  
  
"Right?"   
  
She knocks their red cups against each other, reminding Albert that he hasn't drank a lot from his Bacardi Coke.   
  
He takes a sip.  
It's still not very good.  
  
"Is everything good at school?" he asks her.  
  
Lea pulls a face. "_Ugh_, don't talk to me about school. For one night, I want to forget about that hell place."   
  
Hell place feels too strong a phrase,   
but Albert knows it's not cool to like school so he just nods.  
  
"Let's do something fun," she says, moving to her feet. "Truth or dare or something."  
  
Before Albert can give his opinion on her suggestion, she's already yelling at the other Falcon North kids gathered in the garden.   
  
Because truth or dare promises gossip and possible embarrassing sexual situations,   
everyone is interested.  
  
Albert isn't.  
  
He wants to slip back into the living room and join a round of _Just Dance_,   
but Lea turns around, her braids flying through the air, and calls out, "Albert, come on!"   
  
x  
  
They’re sitting in a circle on the Gibsons’ impeccable and artificial grass.   
  
It’s late April, so it’s warm enough to sit outside. Not that it would’ve mattered to Albert, who had the foresight to bring a cardigan.  
  
After a quick discussion, everyone agrees to play truth or dare.   
Lea is clearly the leader in this group, judging by the way everyone looks at her to tell them what to do.   
  
“Okay, well, I’ll go first, and then I’ll point to the next person, okay?”   
  
She picks dare and when prompted to take off an article of clothing, immediately takes off her shirt. There’s appreciative yelling, and she grins before taking a big gulp of her drink.   
  
Albert watches her bright blue bra and wonders if he should feel excited or aroused.  
  
They play a few more rounds. Isobel tells about the time she walked in on her parents doing it, Curtis admits he’s taken nude photos of himself, Joel has to let the girls shave his legs, and Derrick has to put ice cubes in his pants; the latter being Albert’s idea.  
  
“My legs are _so_ smooth,” Joel says in awe.   
  
The girls who shaved his legs laugh and touch his legs too. Joel preens when they compliment him on how soft they are.   
  
Meanwhile, Derrick—who had to put ice cubes in his pants—points an accusatory finger at Albert and says, “_Your turn_.”   
  
Albert shrugs. “Okay. Dare.”   
  
Derrick grins, then points to his right. “I dare you to kiss _him_ for a minute.”   
  
_Him  
_is Thomas Holmes.   
  
There’s a lot of things Albert knows about Thomas Holmes,  
and even more he doesn’t know.  
  
What he knows is this:  
Thomas Holmes moved to Pegasus Lane when Albert was ten.   
  
He had tried to carry too many boxes from the car, had tripped, and fell on the concrete. Albert had looked out of his window, curious because of the loud crying, and had seen how Thomas’s parents had started arguing instead of calming down their small son.  
  
Thomas Holmes isn’t small now.  
Yet Albert had failed to see him when they sat down for truth or dare.  
Perhaps he’d joined their group while they were still debating what to play.  
  
What Albert also knows:  
People seem to be mildly afraid of Thomas Holmes.  
  
It’s mostly because of his size.   
He looks like he’s supposed to be in college on a football scholarship.   
  
But it’s the cuts and bruises that really seal the deal.   
  
Albert doesn’t pay too much attention,  
but he’s heard the rumors.   
  
People think he’s in a secret underground fight club,   
bashing people’s faces in for extra money.  
  
But what Albert knows about Thomas Holmes doesn’t matter now. Not when there’s an entire group of teenagers watching him with grinning faces, waiting for Albert to object to the dare.   
  
But why should he?  
  
“Sure,” Albert says.   
  
He crawls to Thomas,   
who’s watching him with a frown.  
  
“Someone get a timer!” Lea calls, and Isobel scrambles for her phone.  
  
On their knees on the artificial grass,  
Thomas Holmes is still bigger than Albert.  
  
“Are you okay with this?” Albert asks.  
  
“Uh, I guess?” Thomas says, but it sounds like a question.   
  
“I won’t do tongue.”   
  
Thomas seems to choke on his spit. “Uh, okay.”   
  
Without another word—because why procrastinate?—Albert closes his eyes and presses his lips against Thomas Holmes’s mouth.  
  
Lea whoops loudly, and the others immediately join in.  
  
Why, Albert doesn’t know.  
  
It’s a very boring feeling,  
just skin on skin.  
Almost like a handshake.  
  
Until Thomas presses forward a little, and Albert suddenly remembers he’s kissing _Thomas Holmes. _  
  
A chilly wind blows through the backyard,   
and Albert wants to blame it for the goosebumps breaking out on his skin,  
but it doesn’t work because he knows it’s not true.  
  
The goosebumps arrived before the wind.  
  
The feeling quickly subsides,   
but the minute lasts very long.  
  
Long enough that Albert wonders if he should also move his mouth. Would that make it better?   
  
Experimentally, he tilts his head a little,  
and Thomas makes a little gasp-y sound like he’s surprised.   
  
It’s not a bad sound.   
It’s mostly a _logical_ sound.   
After all, it is kind of weird to be kissing your neighbour; the one you’ve kept an eye on for 7 years.  
  
The timer beeps.  
  
“Time!” Lea yells.   
  
Somehow this startles Albert.  
  
It’s time to pull back, he thinks.   
Yet it’s strangely difficult. His eyes open slowly, almost lazily, like he was half asleep.  
  
Except he doesn’t feel tired.   
Not at all.  
  
Thomas Holmes is looking at Albert with dark eyes,  
darker than their usual coffee shade.   
  
Somehow, the look in Thomas’s eyes makes Albert’s stomach feel funny,  
all unstable and queasy.   
  
Before Albert can act on the strange feeling, an arm gets thrown around his shoulders. “Didn’t know you had it in you, man," Lea grins.  
  
Albert shrugs. “It’s kissing. It’s not advanced physics.”   
  
“Guess not!” Lea laughs. “Okay, your turn to pick the next victim.”   
  
Albert looks around the circle and randomly points at someone who hasn’t had a turn yet. When the game resumes, he turns back to Thomas.  
  
But the spot beside him is empty.  
  
“Did you see where Thomas went?” he asks Lea.  
  
“Huh?” she says, not even looking at him, distracted by the game. “No idea.”  
  
x  
  
It takes Albert half an hour before he finally spots Thomas Holmes’s dark curls. He’s in the hallway, black bomber jacket in his hand.  
  
“For a big guy, you’re hard to find,” Albert says.  
  
Thomas looks at his feet. “I was just going.”  
  
“Yeah, alright. It’s getting late.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Albert walks to the door and opens it.   
When Thomas merely stares at him, confused, Albert gestures outside.  
  
“Well, let’s go.”  
  
“You want me to go?”  
  
“No, I’m going too.”  
  
This doesn’t seem to clear up Thomas’s confusion.   
But it does make him move.   
He shrugs on his jacket, then walks out the door.   
  
It’s a fairly bright evening. Not only are the streetlights on, but the moon is also almost full, glowing brightly down at the earth  
and the silence between Albert and Thomas as they walk through the streets of Falcon North.  
  
It’s not really awkward.  
Well.   
Maybe a little.  
  
The houses get smaller and closer together the longer they walk,  
but the distance between Albert and Thomas stays the same.   
Respectable.  
  
“How are you?” Albert asks eventually.   
  
Thomas is silent for a few seconds. “The same as usual.”  
  
“That’s good.”  
  
Thomas shrugs, and there’s silence once more.  
  
When they turn the corner and walk onto a sleeping Pegasus Lane,   
Albert thinks absentmindedly that this is only the fourth time he’s ever talked to Thomas Holmes. For someone he’s known most of his life, it’s not—  
  
“How are you?”  
  
The words are pushed out into the night like Thomas literally wanted to _break_ the silence.  
  
Surprised, Albert pushes up his red glasses. “Also the same as usual. I go to school, meet my friends, do homework, then repeat everything the next day.”  
  
“You don’t do anything after school?”  
  
It’s only a few more steps until their houses.  
Albert can see the ceramic pots on the porch that his brother and him painted when they were younger.   
  
“I do. I play video games, or I read. Sometimes I watch a movie with my dad.”  
  
Eyes on the ground, Thomas nods.  
  
They’re standing in front of Albert’s home now.   
There’s a light on in the living room, and Albert bets his mother is secretly watching them through the window.   
  
“Anyway,” Albert says. “I’m going inside.”  
  
Thomas nods again. 

Then his eyes find Albert for the first time since their kiss, and even though Albert has to tilt back his head, it’s nice.  
It’s nice to look into Thomas’s eyes.  
  
“Good night,” Albert says.  
  
“Bye,” Thomas says. He turns around abruptly, like someone pulled on his arm. Pulled him away from 48 Pegasus Lane.  
  
Albert watches Thomas Holmes’s shape grow smaller before he gets inside the house. When he closes the front door, his mother pounces on him almost immediately.  
  
“Was that Thomas Holmes?” she asks, hair in a messy bun and a book in her hands.   
  
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Albert asks.   
  
“I know, but it was just so tense and I needed to know what happened next.” She waves the book in her hands for emphasis. “I swear I’m just going to finish this chapter and then I’ll go to bed.”  
  
Unlikely.  
  
Albert toes off his shoes and makes for the stairs.  
  
“Wait, don’t ignore my question,” his mother says. “Was that Thomas Holmes?”  
  
“Yeah, it was.”  
  
“How’s he doing? You two never really talk.”  
  
Albert leans against the wall and thinks back to the raging storm,  
three years ago.   
To the way Thomas Holmes’s laugh had made Albert smile.   
  
“Not really, no,” he says.  
  
“Do you think that’s going to change? You go to the same school, right?”  
  
“We’re not in the same friend groups though.”  
  
His mother takes a sip of her tea. “Well, you never know.”  
  
But that’s the thing.  
Albert prides himself on knowing nearly everything.  
  
It’s uncommon for him to _not _know.  
  
x  
  
Monday, at school, Jenny is already waiting for Albert when he walks to his locker.   
She recently re-dyed her hair black, and it shines underneath the fluorescent school lights. She’s scratching off her black nail polish, not because she wants to, but because she’s nervous.   
  
Albert knows this because he knows _her_.   
  
“Morning, Jenny.”  
  
“Oh my god, there you finally are. I’ve been dying to tell you what my tarot reading said this morning.”   
  
Albert takes a few books out of his locker while he listens to the outcome of Jenny’s reading. It’s mostly positive.   
  
“Except,” she says, “it said that one of my friends would get into an accident this week.”  
  
“You have more friends, though.”  
  
The bell rings, and they start walking to French together.   
  
“I know, I know, but I wanted to warn you. Just in case, you know?”  
  
“That’s nice, thank you.”  
  
“So keep an eye out for ladders and cars and potholes.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
There’s a crowd in front of the French classroom, because their teacher is always late when they have French first period.  
A few of the gathered students are yawning and staring blearily at the door like their minds are still asleep.   
  
Not Jenny’s though.  
  
Judging by the little lovesick sigh beside him,  
Jenny has already spotted her three year long crush.  
  
It takes her a moment to come back to earth, but she eventually tears her eyes away and focuses on Albert once more. “So how was your weekend?”  
  
“Alright. I went to the neighbourhood party—”  
  
“Oh, right!”  
  
“—but we didn’t do anything special. We just played some _Just Dance _and _Mario Kart_. Oh, and I got my first kiss.”  
  
Jenny’s eyes widen in slow-motion,  
like her brain is catching up to her ears.  
  
“Yeah,” Albert says, and he pushes up his glasses.   
  
“Oh. My. God.”  
  
“It was for truth or dare.”  
  
“Truth or—but _still_—Oh. My. God,” Jenny repeats, hands gesturing in the air like she’s trying to make sense of it all.  
  
Before she can, their French teacher finally shows up, a coffee pot in her hand.   
  
Albert goes inside with the rest of the students. Behind him, he hears Jenny whisper furiously, “I _will_ get a name from you, Albert Meadows!”  
  
He looks over his shoulder. “Oh, you don’t need to pry. It was Thomas Holmes.”  
  
At that,  
Jenny stops in her tracks and stares at him with her mouth open.   
  
x  
  
Monday, at lunch, Albert has frankly forgotten all about this morning.   
  
He’s listening to Alistar and his boyfriend, Carter, talk about their weekend, while Will dozes off—as he usually does on Mondays.   
  
“And it was _so_ big,” Car says. “They rented this entire hotel, which was necessary too because it was _packed_ with people.”  
  
“And so many people were cosplaying Lord of the Rings,” Alistar adds. “I didn’t think people still thought that was cool.”  
  
“I mean, it’s Comic Con,” Albert says. “Everyone there probably grew up with Lord of the Rings.”  
  
Alistar laughs. “Yeah, I guess so.”  
  
“So, anyway, there we were,” Car continues, “waiting in line for what seemed like two hours—”   
  
“It was only half an hour,” Alistar says.  
  
“—when suddenly this security guards walks up and—”   
  
A chair next to Albert scrapes loudly over the linoleum  
and then Jenny falls into it.  
  
“You,” she says. “Talk.”   
  
“I was,” Car mutters, which makes Jenny realize there’s more people at their lunch table.   
  
“_Oh_, I’m so sorry for hijacking the convo, but Albert _needs_ to tell me what happened this weekend or I’m gonna die.”   
  
“You’re probably not—” Albert starts, but she cuts him off.  
  
“Albert!”   
  
“Yeah, alright.” Albert pushes up his red glasses. “We played truth or dare. I dared Derrick to put ice cubes in his pants.” The group winces. “And he tried to get back at me by daring me to kiss Thomas Holmes.”   
  
Alistar was in the middle of taking a sip of his water, but he nearly chokes on it when Albert’s done explaining.  
  
Or well,   
he thought he was done.  
  
“And you did?” Jenny asks, leaning forward.  
  
“Yes.”   
  
“And how was it?” Car asks, while patting a coughing Star on the back.  
  
It’s the question Albert dreaded.  
Because he _doesn’t know_.  
  
“It was alright,” he says, because he’s got to say _something_. “It got better towards the end, but then the timer went off.”   
  
“Shit,” Jenny mumbles, biting on her nail.  
  
“I don’t want to be, uh, rude,” Car starts hesitatingly, “but are you into guys? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”   
  
Albert takes off his glasses and starts cleaning them to postpone his reply.  
Because he’s annoyed.  
Annoyed at all these questions he can’t answer.  
  
“No idea,” he says.   
  
He must’ve sounded irritated,  
because Jenny briefly puts her hand on his shoulder.  
  
“That’s alright,” she says. “You don’t need to know now.”   
  
Maybe not.  
But Albert likes knowing.  
  
x  
  
Wednesday night,   
in bed,  
Albert decides to put the issue out of his mind.  
  
Partly because the end of the school year is near and he needs to focus on school,  
and partly because he’s not planning on kissing Thomas Holmes again.  
  
He knows he could kiss other boys.   
  
The question proposed to him was if he liked _boys_,   
not if he specifically liked Thomas Holmes.  
  
But the fact of the matter is,  
that the thought of kissing _boys_, just any boy,   
doesn’t interest Albert at all.  
  
x  
  
Friday morning does nothing but undermine Albert’s resolve.  
  
Because after he puts his bag on the passenger seat and turns the key in the ignition,  
the car splutters and stalls   
but doesn’t start.  
  
“What?” Albert mumbles, and tries again.  
  
The engine tries to whirr to life,   
but it splutters out again.  
Even after a few more tries.   
  
Albert looks at the house, but the curtains in his parents’ room are still closed. He’d rather not wake up his father to get a lift. Not on his day off.  
  
With a sigh, Albert gets out the car and props open the hood, peering at its mechanical organs like he’s a surgeon without a degree.  
Which is just a normal person.  
  
He lets his forehead lean against the hood. “Ugh.”  
  
Guess he’ll have to take the bu—  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Startled, Albert takes a step back.  
  
Standing next to his broken car is none other than Thomas Holmes,   
holding onto the strap of his backpack with a bruised hand.  
  
“Hi,” Albert says, surprised. “What’s up?”  
  
For the first time in three years,  
for the first time since that storm,  
Thomas Holmes cracks a lopsided smile.  
  
“Think I should ask you that.”  
  
_Right_.  
  
Albert huffs a laugh. “Yeah, okay. Good point.”  
  
“What’s wrong with your car?” Thomas asks, joining Albert at the hood.  
  
“It won’t start. I turned the key multiple times, but nothing's happening.”  
  
Thomas is silent.  
  
Albert watches him look over the car, and wonders how the cut on his cheek got there.   
Does he really fight others for cash?  
  
Without a word, Thomas walks around the front and peers through the window of the driver’s seat. He has to crouch quite a bit to be able to.   
  
“I think I know what your problem is."  
  
“That would be perfect.”  
  
Thomas points at the dashboard, his finger tapping against the glass.   
_Tap, tap, tap._  
  
“Don’t tell me,” Albert starts, but it’s confirmed when Thomas grins.   
  
“Yup. No gas.”  
  
Albert groans. He closes the car’s hood. “Thanks for solving the problem. Guess I’m taking the bus.”  
  
"Um." Thomas straightens up. “I can give you a ride.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
Eyes shifting to the side, Thomas nods.  
  
“Well, I’m not going to say no,” Albert says.   
  
He grabs his bag from the passenger seat, locks the car, then follows Thomas to his car.   
It’s a big truck, big enough for Thomas to get in without having to bend himself in half.   
  
Before Albert can reach for the passenger door, Thomas tells him to wait and runs inside the house.   
When he returns, he’s holding a key in his hand,  
and it’s then that Albert wonders if he’s ever seen Thomas drive a car to school.  
  
Doesn’t he normally ride a bike?  
  
They get inside the truck, which roars to life after just a simple turn of the key.   
  
“That sounds better,” Albert jokes.  
  
Thomas only nods.   
He seems focused on driving out of the driveway, bruised hands holding tightly onto the steering wheel.  
  
Quietly, Albert observes the cuts and bruises on Thomas Holmes’s hands.   
They look fresh.   
And they’re not just on his knuckles.  
Rather, they seem to be on the palm of his hand. Or at least, the small part that Albert can see.  
  
“You okay?” he asks, when he realizes it’s been minutes and Thomas’s grip on the steering wheel still hasn’t let up.  
  
“Yeah,” Thomas says tightly.   
  
“You don’t drive a lot, do you?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
Ah.  
  
“You didn’t have to give me a ride if driving makes you uncomfortable.”  
  
“I’m not uncomfortable about driving.”  
  
As soon as he says the words,   
someone on a bike cuts them off.  
Thomas nearly stands on the brakes. The truck stops with screeching tires and Albert flies forward, his seat belt cutting painfully into his chest.  
  
“Not sure I believe you,” he winces, rubbing his chest.   
  
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Thomas says, shooting Albert a quick look. “You’re right. I’m not a good driver.”  
  
“That’s alright. I’m proud that you admitted it.”  
  
The tips of Thomas’s ears turn red, and his shoulders rise like he's feeling awkward.   
  
“Could you stop staring,” he says nervously.  
  
Oh,  
Albert _had _been staring.  
  
It surprises him, because he hadn’t been doing it on purpose.  
  
“Sorry,” he says, turning away. “That probably doesn’t help your nerves.”  
  
They’re both silent for a while.  
Until Albert has an idea.  
  
He pushes up his red glasses. “Hey, if you want, I could drive us back this afternoon?”  
  
Thomas turns to him in surprise. “You still want to ride with me?”  
  
“Yeah,” Albert says, meeting Thomas’s dark eyes. “Of course.”  
  
Even though Thomas turns his head back to the road,  
and even though his curls partially obstruct his face,   
Albert can see he’s smiling.  
  
It makes Albert’s chest feel weirdly warm.  
  
x  
  
“Have you seen the bruises on his hands and face?”  
  
“Yeah, I heard he beat up someone twice his size!”  
  
“That’s _impossible_, he’s already a giant!”  
  
Albert looks up from his locker.   
Two girls a year younger than him are unabashedly gossiping about the nature of Thomas Holmes’s injuries, and it bothers him.  
  
He closes his locker and walks up to them.   
The girls look at him in surprise.  
  
“And?” Albert asks. “Did he win?”  
  
“Oh,” the left girl says. “I don’t know, I think so.”  
  
“How can you not know? Who’s your source?”  
  
“Uh.” She fidgets. “A guy in my class told me.”  
  
“And how did he know?”  
  
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”  
  
_Of course_.  
It’s just high school gossip.  
Calm down.  
  
But what if it’s real?  
  
Only one way to find out, Albert thinks, as he leaves the girls with a quick goodbye.   
Ask the source.  
  
x  
  
“You’re coming with me to the game tonight, right?” Jenny asks him during English.   
  
“Of course,” Albert says, eyes on the whiteboard lest the teacher thinks they’re not paying attention. “I promised you I would.”  
  
“I know, I know. Just checking. Also, I’m going to text you a few potential outfits tonight.”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
The teacher adds another note to the board then, and they both turn silent as they copy it.   
  
“Oh,” Albert says when he’s finished. “My car wouldn’t start this morning.”  
  
“What?” Jenny turns to him with wide eyes. “No shit! The tarot reading from Monday came true!”  
  
_Just an unlikely coincidence_.  
  
“Guess it did.”  
  
“Sucks for you, though. I hope the bus wasn’t too bad.”  
  
“Oh, no. Thomas Holmes gave me a ride to school.”  
  
At this, Jenny drops her pen.   
It clatters loudly on her desk, and she scrambles to pick it up.  
  
“_No. Shit._”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“He didn’t!”  
  
“He did.”  
  
“_What_. That’s insane! He normally doesn’t even drive a car to school. I heard he’s got this crazy mountain bike thing.”  
  
It’s true.  
  
It’s what other people don’t know:  
Thomas Holmes taught himself how to ride a bike.   
  
The first year the Holmes family moved to Pegasus Lane, Albert often found himself watching through his bedroom window how Thomas Holmes tried to ride a bike.  
  
Tried,  
and failed.  
Many times.  
  
Albert had thought it strange that Thomas hadn’t known how to ride one,  
or that his parents weren’t there to teach him.  
  
He found himself rooting for his neighbour, secretly cheering him on and wincing whenever Thomas hit the hard concrete.  
But Thomas always bit through the tears, even when he was only ten years old.  
  
And even though Albert was only ten years old,  
he admired that.  
  
x  
  
Thomas Holmes is sitting on the hood of his truck when Albert exits the school building.  
  
The sight is strangely aesthetically pleasing,  
and Albert stops dead in his tracks.   
  
The dark jacket, dark curls, and dark eyes;   
everything reminds Albert of Heath Ledger in _Ten Things I Hate About You_.   
  
He secretly loves that movie.  
  
A few kids bump into him, complaining loudly how he's standing in their way.   
But that doesn’t bother Albert.  
What bothers him is the way people look at Thomas as they give him in a wide berth.   
  
There’s distrust,  
and suspicion,  
and straight-up dislike.  
  
For someone they don’t even know.   
  
When Thomas spots Albert, he quickly slides down the truck and straightens his jacket.   
  
“Hi.”   
  
“Hello,” Albert says. “Were you waiting for long?”   
  
“Nah. Only an hour or something.”   
  
“That’s long.”   
  
Thomas shrugs, and again, it looks awkward instead of angry or threatening.   
  
Albert knows how sensational and _wrong_ high school gossip can be,   
but every time he meets Thomas, he feels like they really missed the mark with him.   
  
Albert gets into the driver’s seat,   
then stares at his feet in surprise.  
  
“What?” Thomas asks nervously. “If you want to take the bus, that’s—”   
  
“No, I—” Albert starts laughing. “I can’t reach the pedals.”   
  
He swings his legs for emphasis.  
  
He watches Thomas’s eyes drift down, watches him process the fact that Albert’s feet are nowhere near the pedals.   
Then, he also laughs.   
  
“Oh, right. I’ll adjust it for you.”   
  
Thomas leans in and fumbles for something underneath the chair.   
He’s so close that his dark curls brush against Albert’s cheek.  
  
Albert knows he could lean back,  
knows he could move his legs to give Thomas better access.  
  
But there’s something interesting happening while Thomas’s hands bump against his knees as he searches for the handle.  
  
“Found it,” Thomas grunts, and sure enough, the chair lowers in short, sudden bursts. “Can you reach it now?”   
  
Thomas looks up, and it puts their faces at a kissing distance.  
Albert knows this because he’s kissed Thomas Holmes less than a week ago.  
  
It had been too dark then,  
too dark to appreciate the two small birthmarks underneath Thomas Holmes’s left eye,   
and the espresso hue of said eyes.  
  
Albert knows he should move back,   
but it’s not unpleasant to be this close.  
  
He watches Thomas’s ears turn slightly red.   
Then, Thomas swallows, and starts leaning in, like he’s going to kiss Albert.  
  
It startles Albert out of his staring.   
  
He quickly looks away and puts his feet on the pedals. “Oh! Right, yeah, I can reach them now.”  
  
From the corner of his eye, he sees Thomas lean back.  
  
“Good,” Thomas mumbles.  
  
“Let’s see if I can drive your truck,” Albert half-jokes, but it sounds a little awkward, even to his own ears.   
  
x  
  
Friday night, the stadium is packed with people wearing yellow and green around their necks, on their bodies and on their faces.  
  
Jenny doesn’t join in because she doesn’t want to break her goth aesthetic,  
but Albert put a yellow and green stripe on his cheeks to show his support for the Roseburg High team.   
  
Jenny wades through the sea of people,  
a spot of black in the colours.   
  
They find pretty good spots on the left.   
  
“Damn, it’s warm tonight,” Jenny says, pushing up the sleeves of her black dress—the winner of the 5 outfits she texted him. “Can I have some popcorn?”  
  
Albert gets the bag of popcorn from his backpack and hands it to Jenny, who tears it open immediately.   
  
“I also brought coke and water,” Albert says.  
  
“Cool. I brought wine.”   
  
Because it’s tradition,   
Albert isn’t surprised.  
  
He was the first time, though.  
  
“So how was the ride with Thomas Holmes today?” Jenny asks, while she pours the wine in a red cup. “Did you kiss again?”  
  
“No, but I think he wanted to.”   
  
Jenny nearly spills the wine. “No way! How do you know? Did he say?”   
  
“No, he leaned in like he was going to kiss me.”   
  
Jenny hands him the cup, then pours one for herself.  
  
Albert takes a sip. “It frustrates me, Jenny.”   
  
“What? That he’s trying to kiss you?”  
  
“No. Well, a little,” Albert admits. “When I saw him leaning in, it felt too soon. I don’t really know him, but…”   
  
Music starts playing, and the stadium lights dim for a few seconds to alert the audience that the entertainment is about to start.  
  
“But at the same time,” Albert shouts, “it feels like I’ve known him all my life.”   
  
“_What?_” Jenny asks, leaning in, but it’s then that the trumpets start playing.   
  
The school band marches onto the field, followed by a group of jumping and cartwheeling cheerleaders, and Albert knows he’s lost Jenny’s attention.  
  
When the big entrance is done,   
the head cheerleader takes a step forward, her blonde hair shining underneath the harsh stadium lights, and waves at the public.  
  
Beside him, Jenny waves back like her life depends on it.  
  
Albert knows she’s been crushing on Rose Robinson for years.   
He doesn’t think it’s odd.  
Rose Robinson looks beautiful, and she’s rumoured to be super friendly. Everyone _adores_ her. Everyone probably has had a crush on her at some point in their lives, too.  
But the thought never crossed Albert’s mind.  
  
For curiosity’s sake, he tries imaging kissing her, but all he feels, if anything, is a mild nausea.   
  
Because he doesn’t _know_ Rose at all.   
  
The thought feels like another clue,  
like he solved part of the equation,  
but at the same time, it doesn’t.   
  
The question:  
_Do I like boys?_  
  
Not an answer:  
_I don’t want to kiss Rose Robinson_.  
  
x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time; Albert cocks his head. “And why are you sneaking around in the middle of the night, Thomas Holmes?” 
> 
> Ahh, thank you so so much for reading!! ♡  
I really hope you like the story so far! If you want, let me know what you thought :D 
> 
> And if you want to follow my writing, I post updates on my tumblr (idnis) and twitter (idnis9)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely people!!
> 
> Another chapter! Aaahhh, it's seriously so exciting to update my ORIGINAL WRITING. I dunno why. It's just exciting, hihi. 
> 
> Enjoy reading ♡

Friday night,   
but later,   
Pegasus Lane is deserted when Jenny drops Albert off at home.   
  
At least,   
at a glance it looks deserted.   
  
Because when Albert gets out the car, he sees a large shape sneak across the street.   
It looks like it’s limping slightly.   
  
“Hey,” Albert calls out.   
  
The shape freezes.   
  
“Who are you yelling at?” Jenny hisses, leaning over the passenger seat to look at Albert. “What if it’s a murderer?”   
  
“Even more reason to scare them off,” Albert says. He taps the roof of her car, then walks away. “Thanks for the ride!”   
  
“Albert, don’t think about going after—”   
  
Albert jogs up to the shape. “Hey!”   
  
“Albert!” Jenny yells, but Albert ignores her.   
  
The shape takes a hesitant step towards the Holmes’ house. The insecurity feels a little odd for a murderer.   
  
“Hey, what are you doing?” Albert asks.   
  
Slowly, almost reluctantly, the dark shape turns around. “Could you maybe, uh, keep it down? I don’t want my mom to wake up.”  
  
Albert cocks his head. “And why are you sneaking around in the middle of the night, Thomas Holmes?”   
  
Thomas Holmes rubs the back of his neck and looks off to the side. “Nothing special.”   
  
The most logical question would be to ask if he went to a fight,   
and if he won,   
but Albert doesn’t like admitting that he listened to gossip, so he doesn’t ask.   
  
Instead he says, “You were limping.”   
  
“Uh, yeah.” Thomas shuffles his feet, then winces and stops. “I fell.”   
  
_ Or you were fighting an opponent much larger than yourself,  
_ _ and you won,  
_ _ but not without getting injured yourself _ .   
  
“Does it hurt?”   
  
Thomas shrugs. “A little. It’s not too bad. Just bashed up my knee.”   
  
_ This is getting ridiculous, _ Albert thinks. _ No more skirting around the issue. _   
  
“You know, people have been talking.”   
  
“Don’t they always?”   
  
The answer makes Albert smile. “True.”   
  
For a moment, neither of them says anything.  
  
It feels a little like last Friday night,   
standing a respectable distance apart on a sleepy Pegasus Lane,   
Thomas Holmes quiet like the night while Albert searches for words to fill the silence.   
  
He doesn’t find any pretty words,  
so he uses clear ones.   
  
“They’re saying you’ve been fighting people for money. And that’s why you’re always covered in cuts and bruises.”   
  
Thomas Holmes is silent as he takes in Albert’s words.   
  
Then he laughs.  
Not loud and boisterous,   
but quiet and warm.   
  
“I’m guessing it’s not true,” Albert says, unable to keep the smile off his face.   
  
“Man, I wish, Al,” Thomas Holmes laughs. “That would be so much cooler than the truth.”   
  
_ Al _ .   
  
The nickname transports Albert back to that evening three years ago,   
when the rain was pelting down against the windows and the sky had rumbled deafeningly.   
When their jeans had been soaked and their hair had been dripping and they had been freezing to the bone.   
  
_ This was fun, Al. Thanks. _   
  
“So if it’s not illegal fighting, where did you get the injuries then?”   
  
“I went to Umpqua National Forest, and I fell.”   
  
Albert stares at Thomas. “Are you serious? That’s like an hour away. By _ car _ .”   
  
“Yeah, I, uh. I asked a friend to drive me there. He’s just as crazy about geography as I am. We do hikes together, and sometimes we take samples of soil or rocks. I mean, there’s not a lot of research done in the forest anymore, so whenever we find something interesting we send it to the Forest Service.”   
  
It’s the most surprising answer Thomas could’ve given.  
It’s also the most Albert has heard Thomas say unprompted.   
  
“You’re probably thinking it’s real boring,” Thomas adds quickly, when Albert only stares at him in surprise. “But like, there’s tons of secrets buried underneath the earth. The Umpqua forest was shaped by whitewater rapids and explosive volcanic events, so we find real interesting stuff from time to time. At least, I think it’s interesting.”   
  
“Thomas Holmes,” Albert says slowly.   
  
Thomas wrings his hands nervously. “Yeah?”   
  
“That is _ so _ much cooler than illegal fighting.”   
  
“You think so?”  
  
Thomas gives Albert that lopsided smile.  
  
“Most definitely. Are you kidding me? You explore nature in your free time!” Albert pushes up his red glasses. “I used to collect rocks and gems when I was younger. I still have this box full of rocks I gathered on trips. I think a few might even be from the Umpqua National Forest.”   
  
“For real?”   
  
“Yeah! You can take a look at them sometime, if you want. I don’t know if it’s particularly interesting, but—”   
  
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Thomas says.   
  
“Alright,” Albert smiles.   
  
Thomas is still grinning. “Cool.”   
  
“So I’m guessing it’s not a murderer?” Jenny yells from her car.   
  
x   
  
Monday morning, Albert’s car still doesn’t have gas.   
  
“Do you want a ride?” Thomas Holmes yells from across the street.   
  
“Yes, please!” Albert yells back, then makes his way over.   
  
Without question, Thomas hands him the keys,  
and Albert takes them with a smile.   
  
He likes knowing that Thomas Holmes is a nervous driver.   
  
“How’s your knee?” Albert asks, after they get in the truck.   
  
Thomas click his seatbelt in place. “Hurts when I bend it, but otherwise I’m good.”   
  
“Are you going hiking again this week?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Albert drives out the driveway, while mulling over the question he wants to ask.   
  
They’re already on the main road when he finally does.  
  
“Why don’t you correct people?”   
  
“About the fighting?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“I don’t know.”   
  
From the corner of his eye, Albert can see Thomas lean his head against the window.   
His dark curls fall slightly in front of his eyes.   
  
“I guess...” Thomas starts, then stops. “Nah, it’s gonna sound stupid.”   
  
“I won’t judge you. Whether it’s stupid or not.”   
  
“That means it can still be stupid.”   
  
“Yeah, but I won’t judge you for it,” Albert points out.   
  
Thomas laughs, and Albert can’t help but smile. “Alright, alright. I guess I kinda like how the rumours keep people away. I’m not really good at, uh, talking, as you might’ve noticed.”   
  
That’s not true.   
  
The way Thomas talked about his expeditions,  
the way it made his eyes light up and his words flow freely...  
The way it made Albert hold his breath and listen intently.   
  
“So was it stupid?” Thomas asks, after Albert parks the car at school and turns off the engine.   
  
“No, I get it. It took me a while to find people I connected to, so I understand how tiresome it can be. I just think you should try.”   
  
Thomas looks down at his hands.   
He’s quiet for a while.   
  
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”   
  
Before Albert can respond, Thomas gets out the car.   
The sounds of Monday morning flood inside for a second before the door falls shut again.   
  
Albert quickly gets out too.   
  
“Thomas!” he calls.  
  
When Thomas turns, he throws the car keys.   
Thomas catches them with an ease that looks cool.   
  
“ _ I _ like talking to you,” Albert says.   
  
Thomas looks startled. 

He drops his eyes to the ground,   
but it doesn’t hide the smile on his face.  
  
x  
  
Tuesday morning,   
in the car,  
Albert has something to say.  
  
“I don’t mean that you should try to make as many friends as possible. Just that it seems like you’re not giving anyone a chance right now. And I think that’s a shame, because you’re worth getting to know. You deserve friends just as much as anyone else.”  
  
When Thomas doesn’t respond,   
Albert chances a quick glance in his direction.  
  
The tips of Thomas’s ears are red.   
  
“Thanks,” Thomas mumbles. “It's just. I just don’t know where to start.”  
  
“You could eat lunch with my friends,” Albert suggests.  
  
“Uh.”  
  
“They’ll like you. I’m know they will.”  
  
“Yeah, okay. Maybe.”  
  
x  
  
Thursday afternoon  
is the third lunch where Thomas doesn’t join them.  
  
Albert doesn’t want to admit he’s disappointed,   
but he is.  
He can’t concentrate on anything his friends are saying—or well, what Will is saying.   
  
On Thursdays, Will has no problem talking for the four of them.   
  
Albert takes a bite of his sandwich. As he chews, he looks at Will and pretends he’s listening to his D&D recap from last night.   
It’s probably interesting.   
Will is a very good storyteller. He uses his face and hands when he talks, making expressions and gestures that draw you in.   
  
Then, obtrusively, the questions pops into Albert’s mind.  
  
_Could I kiss Will?_  
  
The question makes more sense than thinking about Rose Robinson, because the unanswered question remains: _Do I like boys?  
  
_And Will is a boy.  
  
But as Albert’s eyes drift to Will’s lips,   
the only thing he thinks is,   
_Will’s lips are small._  
  
He waits for something, _anything_, to happen inside his body, the famous warmth in his chest that so many books describe,   
or maybe even the goosebumps he got when he kissed Thomas.  
  
But nothing happens.  
His chest remains bored.  
  
Albert takes another bite of his sandwich,  
and chews.  
  
x  
  
Friday afternoon,   
a second after Albert steps outside the school building,   
Jenny grabs his arm and drags him to her own car.   
  
“You’re coming with me,” she says, her bat earrings glinting in the afternoon sun. “I need a movie night with you.”   
  
Albert knows movie nights with Jenny usually include Harry Potter movies, popcorn, sweet wine,  
and endless conversations about Rose Robinson.  
  
Normally, he really likes movie nights with Jenny.  
Except he had been looking forward to ride back with Thomas.  
  
Albert looks over his shoulder and sees Thomas watch them in confusion,   
before sliding down the hood of his car and walking towards the driver’s seat.  
  
His shoulders are slumped down.  
  
“Wait,” Albert says. “I can’t just walk away without an explanation.”   
  
“I’ll wait for you in the car!” Jenny says.  
  
There’s no time to reply, not if Albert wants to get to Thomas before he drives off.  
  
So Albert does something he rarely does at school.  
He runs.  
  
And it’s a good thing he does too, because the car is reversing just as Albert pounds on the hood.  
The car jerks to a stop. Through the window, Albert can see Thomas swear, eyes wide with shock, before he gets out of the car.  
  
“Sorry,” Albert says immediately. “I can’t drive back with you today. I’m going home with Jenny.”   
  
“I mean, I saw that,” Thomas says, raking a hand through his hair. He still looks a little frazzled.  
  
“Also, I’m sorry for pounding on your car.”   
  
“Hey, no need to apologise. If you want to go home with your girl, you can.”   
  
It’s not a surprising assumption.  
It’s not the first time anyone’s made it, too.  
But it’s the first time Albert minds.  
Just a little.  
  
“She’s not my girlfriend.”   
  
“Oh, uh.” Thomas looks to the side, eyes darting away. “Sorry, I just thought...”   
  
“That’s fine,” Albert assures him. “She is, however, waiting for me. So I’ll see you later.”   
  
“Yeah, see you.”   
  
Except Thomas isn’t.  
He isn’t seeing Albert, because he’s not looking at him at all.  
  
x  
  
Friday evening,  
after too many glasses of wine,  
they’re lying on Jenny’s bedroom floor.  
  
Some upbeat teenage song is playing in the background—the credits of the movie they were watching.  
  
Albert turns his head to look at Jenny. “Thomas called you my girlfriend.”   
  
“Huh, okay.” Jenny frowns. “Except he kissed you and I didn’t?”   
  
“I think it was because you dragged me away.”   
  
Jenny groans. “God, you already kissed someone, and I didn’t.”  
  
“You kissed that guy at summer camp.”   
  
“That doesn’t count, and you know it. It was a spin-the-bottle-kiss.”  
  
Albert looks up at Jenny’s ceiling and wonders out loud, “How’s that different from a truth-or-dare-kiss?”   
  
“Uh, I guess it’s not?”  
  
But the kiss has been worrying Albert for over a week now.  
It feels so dismissive to say it doesn’t count, especially since the problem is still very real.  
  
“I hate not knowing,” he mumbles.  
  
“Hm?” Jenny turns onto her stomach, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. “Not knowing what?”  
  
Albert also turns on his stomach, and looks at his best friend.  
Really looks at her.  
  
“Can I kiss you?” he asks.  
  
Jenny laughs. “Sure.”   
  
On his elbows, Albert scooches forward.   
He presses their lips together, and it’s…  
skin on skin.  
  
Jenny tastes like the sweet wine they just had,   
which isn’t unpleasant per se,  
but Albert still feels very little for moving his lips and prolonging the kiss.  
  
When Thomas moved his lips it was good for a second, though.  
  
Albert tries it too, but.  
It just feels wrong.  
  
He leans back. “This feels very wrong.”   
  
Jenny’s face is scrunched up. “That was unpleasant. I’m sorry, Albert. Even though you’re a hot nerd, my lesbian heart doesn’t beat for you.”   
  
Albert laughs,  
but his joy is short-lived.  
  
Because he only collected another not-answer:  
_I don’t want to kiss Jenny_.  
  
He drops his head on his arms. “How can I know I like boys if I don’t want to kiss _anyone_?”   
  
He bumps his head against his arms.   
It hurts, because it makes his glasses press painfully into his face.  
  
“Wait,” Jenny says. “Does that mean you’re asexual?”  
  
“I jerk off,” Albert mumbles.  
  
“I think you can still be asexual though?”   
  
Albert leans his head to the side to look at Jenny.   
And maybe, it’s because he’s had a few glasses of wine that he admits, “I got goosebumps when I kissed Thomas.”  
  
“Oh?”   
  
“Yeah, for a second.”  
  
Jenny frowns. “Maybe he’s an exceptional kisser? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Maybe you’re the other thingy… Demi? Was it demisexual?”  
  
Albert thinks back on the kiss.  
It had felt remarkably unremarkable,  
until Thomas had moved.  
  
But Albert had moved with Jenny too, and that didn’t do anything for him.  
Perhaps because she’s a girl?  
  
Suddenly tired, Albert lies on his back again.  
  
“Why is this so difficult to figure out?” he mumbles.  
  
Jenny shuffles over to lie next to him. “Because, as far as I know, you’ve never been particularly interested in this stuff.” She puts her head on his chest. “Do you think you could kiss Thomas again?”   
  
Albert closes his eyes and imagines Thomas lying on his chest like this.  
Imagines playing with Thomas’s dark curls,  
threading his fingers through them.  
  
He imagines it would make Thomas smile.  
  
His heart skips a beat.  
  
“Ha,” Jenny says. “I heard that.”   
  
But Albert doesn’t open his eyes just yet.  
  
He imagines moving his hand to the back of Thomas’s neck and pulling him up so their faces are close.  
  
He imagines Thomas looking away,  
because for some reason he thinks people don’t like him,  
and Albert doesn’t have to imagine being frustrated by it.  
  
With his other hand,  
he’ll move Thomas’s head so he has no choice but to look at him.   
And it would be perfect,   
because his lips would be close enough to kiss.  
  
Albert’s face feels hot as he imagines leaning in   
and kissing Thomas Holmes on his bedroom floor.  
  
“_Hmm_,” Jenny hums. “I can definitely hear something happening inside your chest.”   
  
Slightly embarrassed, Albert opens his eyes. “I think I want to kiss Thomas Holmes again.”  
  
x  
  
But more than that,   
he thinks on Saturday morning,  
he wants to get to know Thomas.  
  
x  
  
On Sunday,  
an hour before dinner,  
Albert is bored.  
  
He tries to read a book, but he can’t focus, so he puts it away and grabs his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through Twitter.   
  
Absentmindedly, because his mind has been preoccupied with Friday’s revelation.  
  
It feels huge, and slightly confusing.   
Mostly because it doesn’t quite feel like the answer he’s been searching for.  
  
What had Jenny said again?   
  
Asexual  
or demisexual.  
  
Without hesitation, Albert opens google.  
  
x  
  
Monday morning,  
Albert blow dries his hair.  
  
It’s a thing his mother sometimes does for him, mostly for birthdays or Christmas parties. It makes his hair look just a little bit more put together.  
  
His brother barges into his room. “Shit, we don’t have a birthday tonight, right? I already made plans.”  
  
“On a Monday?” Albert asks.  
  
“Yeah, what? There’s a new Marvel movie in the cinema.”   
  
_Oh, right_.   
Albert and his friends made plans to see it on Saturday.  
  
“No spoilers,” Albert says, before continuing the ordeal of making his hair look good for someone he maybe likes.  
  
“Wait!” his brother yells over the blow dryer. “Do we have a birthday party tonight?”   
  
“No!” Albert yells back.  
  
“Then why the fuck are you blowdrying your hair?”   
  
x  
  
Monday morning,  
a few minutes later,  
Thomas shifts in the passenger seat.  
  
“Did you do something to your hair?”  
  
For some reason,  
Albert feels like he’s been caught.   
  
He doesn’t know why.  
He blow dried his hair so it would look _better_ than it usually does.   
It makes total sense for a perceptive person to notice.   
  
Yet Albert’s face feels slightly hot. “Yes, I blow dried it.”  
  
Thomas is quiet.  
It makes the sound of the first raindrops splattering on the wind screen even more pronounced.  
  
Albert shoots Thomas a quick look, and finds Thomas is already looking at him. When they lock eyes, Thomas quickly looks away.   
  
“It looks good,” he mumbles.  
  
The compliment makes Albert’s chest feel warm,  
and he can’t help but smile as the rain starts coming down for real.  
  
x  
  
Monday morning,  
another few minutes later,  
Albert turns off the car engine and watches the heavy rain for a second. Then he opens the door and gets out.   
  
Fat, heavy drops fall on his perfectly blow dried hair,  
and Albert mourns his efforts before throwing the door shut and—  
  
The rain stops.  
All of a sudden, it stops.   
  
Albert looks up in surprise and finds himself shielded by none other than Thomas Holmes’s jacket.   
  
Meanwhile, Thomas Holmes himself is getting completely drenched,   
hunched over as he is, trying to keep Albert dry.  
  
“What the—” Albert starts, still in shock.   
  
“You blow dried your hair!” Thomas shouts, because the rain is nearly deafening as it falls.   
  
“But _you’re_ getting soaked!”   
  
“I don’t mind!” Thomas shouts back, but water is dripping down his face and his hoodie is getting darker with the second.   
  
Just like three years ago.  
  
Albert shakes his head. “Let’s run inside!”  
  
_“What are you doing? Let’s get inside!” Albert had yelled.  
  
_It’s the most awkward run Albert has ever done,  
and that’s saying something, considering he once broke his glasses during gym.  
  
While running, Thomas still tries to cover Albert with his jacket. He’s only half successful; his elbow bumps against Albert’s head a few times in the process.   
  
_After a moment’s hesitation, Thomas had run towards him._  
  
When they reach the school’s front door and its shelter, Albert is just a little rained on.   
Thomas, on the other hand, is _drenched_.  
  
“Oh my god,” Albert says.   
  
But Thomas doesn’t seem to share Albert’s shock.   
He’s laughing,   
that quietly warm laugh that makes Albert want to smile as well.   
  
A few students run past them, also trying to escape the rain. They give them weird looks before quickly disappearing inside the building, not wanting to risk getting soaked.  
  
“Stop laughing,” Albert says. “You’re dripping wet.”  
  
“Did I save your hair?”   
  
“I don’t even care,” Albert says, but he brushes a hand through his hair and finds that it’s mostly dry. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you did.”  
  
“Awesome.” Thomas gives him a lopsided smile. “I always wanted to be a hero.”  
  
It’s too cute.  
  
Albert huffs out an exasperated laugh. “Let’s get you inside, hero. You need dry clothes.”  
  
_“I think I have a sweater that fits you,” he had said._  
  
“Yeah, okay,” Thomas says, but he doesn’t seem too concerned about clothes. He just keeps smiling as they walk through the hallway.  
It looks a little like he should be floating.   
  
Adorable.  
  
x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; Three years ago, on a Friday night. 
> 
> Orrrrr FLASHBACK TIME. I hope the last scene wasn't too confusing! The italics were meant to be flashbacks :O
> 
> ANYWAY, thank you so so much if you're still around and reading ♡ I hope you had fun!! And let me know what you thought of this chapter, if you want :) It would mean a lot! ♡


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> A few scenes in this chapter made me so emotional, I swear.  
(just like your comments ;u;)
> 
> Enjoy reading! ♡

_Three years ago,  
__on a Friday night_.  
  
It had been raining the entire day,  
a sort of drizzle that was only mildly annoying.   
  
But it wasn’t until Albert’s parents left for the theater that the rain really started coming down.   
  
Albert watched it for a few minutes before deciding he needed a cup of tea, a few candles, and a movie.   
  
While the kettle was heating up, he thought about inviting Jenny.   
But she hated going out in the rain.   
Better not.  
  
Albert poured himself some earl grey tea and moved to the couch, where he wrapped himself in a blanket and put on _Ten Things I Hate About You_.   
  
He was about ten minutes into the movie,   
and he’d taken about five sips of his tea,  
when the shouting started.  
  
Curious, Albert got up to look out the window.  
  
Across the street,   
in front of the Holmes house,  
was a man  
and Thomas Holmes.  
  
The ever so quiet Thomas was shouting, and pulling on the man’s—his father’s—arm.   
  
In the door opening, face streaked with mascara, stood a woman. She was shouting at Thomas to stop, please just stop, while the man was shouting at Thomas to let him go.   
  
Thomas seemed to refuse to do either.  
  
With the same determination he used to teach himself how to ride a bike,  
Thomas Holmes held onto his father.  
  
But his father was a big man, and Thomas was weak from crying and screaming,   
so with just a push, Thomas fell backwards, sliding over the wet pavement.  
  
His father got in the car before Thomas could get up again.   
  
Albert watched everything in horror.  
He knew the Holmes’ fought a lot, but this time felt different. When he saw the car driving away, he knew it would be the last time he ever saw Thomas’s father.  
  
Thomas’s mother shouted at her son, but when he didn’t respond, didn’t even get up,   
she just  
closed the door.  
  
Albert’s heart clenched as he watched Thomas Holmes shrink in on himself in the pouring rain,  
wet clothes sticking to his body and his shoulders shaking.   
  
It wasn’t any of Albert’s business.  
He should get back to his blanket, his tea, and his movie.  
  
But he’d been watching Thomas for _years_.  
He’d seen him laugh,  
and cry.  
  
He’d seen him fall   
and get up, get up, get up.  
  
“_Get up_,” Albert whispered.   
  
But Thomas Holmes didn’t get up this time.  
  
Before Albert could think it through,   
he put on his shoes, barely taking the time to tie his shoelaces, before ripping open his front door and running outside.   
  
The pouring rain rushed around him,   
blinding him within seconds, streaks of it dripping down his glasses.  
  
“What are you doing? Let’s get inside!” Albert shouted, gesturing behind him at his open front door.  
  
Slowly, Thomas looked up,   
his dark hair plastered to his face.  
  
At first, nothing happened on Pegasus Lane.   
Nothing but two boys looking at each other from a respectable distance apart.  
  
Then, Thomas moved to his feet.  
  
It was too hard to see anything more than movement through the rain, so Albert took off his glasses. The edges of his world turned blurry and unfocused,  
but he could see with a startling clarity how Thomas Holmes,  
after a moment’s hesitation,   
ran towards him.  
  
Albert let Thomas go inside first, then closed the door behind him.   
  
Silence fell.  
  
Albert stared at a drenched Thomas Holmes and decided that the adjective was the easiest problem to tackle.  
  
“I think I have a sweater that fits you.”   
  
x  
  
On Wednesday,   
at lunch,  
Albert has had enough.   
  
“This is ridiculous,” he says, interrupting Jenny doing a reading for Carter.  
  
“Listen—” Jenny starts.  
  
“Hey, that’s my future you’re talking about,” Carter protests.  
  
“—I know you don’t believe in the cards, but you can’t deny that they predicted your car trouble. _Hmm?_”  
  
Albert pushes up his glasses, annoyed. “That was the best thing that happened to me that week.”  
  
Jenny blinks. “_Oh._”  
  
“Is he talking about Thomas Holmes?” Star whispers.   
  
“Yeah,” Carter says, not bothering to whisper.  
  
Albert stands up.   
Quite suddenly, judging by how Will startles awake.   
  
“I’ll show you Thomas Holmes,” he says.  
  
Star laughs nervously. “Why does that sound like a threat?”  
  
“Because I refuse to indulge in his hiding from society!”   
  
And with that, Albert walks out the cafeteria. He’s not running, but it’s a near thing.   
  
Thomas usually hangs out in the science building, so Albert briskly walks there. He throws open the front door and goes straight for the little lounge area to the left.   
  
“Thomas Holmes!” he exclaims. “I refuse to indulge in your hiding from society!”  
  
Thomas shoots up, looking kind of frightened. “What?”  
  
“You’re going to consume lunch with my friends, or I will…” Albert wracks his brain for a good threat. “Or I will slash your tires!”  
  
“You would?”  
  
“Are you willing to test me?” Albert asks, looking intimidatingly down his glasses. At least, he hopes it is intimidating.   
  
Thomas looks down at his hands.   
He’s wringing them nervously.   
Then he slaps his legs and stands up, suddenly reminding Albert of his size.  
  
If Thomas Holmes wanted, he could break Albert in two.  
  
Instead, he chooses to look to the side and mumble, “Alright.”  
  
Albert sighs in relief. “Good.”  
  
But it’s not.  
Because then, the school bell rings.  
  
x  
  
On Thursday,  
a few minutes before lunch,  
Albert waits for Thomas Holmes near the science building like he wants to fight him.  
  
He doesn’t.  
  
If anything, he’d like to try kissing him again.   
Kiss _Thomas Holmes_,   
forest explorer,  
defeater of the rain,   
and nervous driver.  
  
Thomas Holmes,  
who turns around the corner just then.  
  
The horrible, illogical thought fills Albert’s mind that _what if Thomas could read my thoughts?_   
His cheeks heat up in embarrassment.  
  
“Hey,” Thomas says nervously, looking at the ground.  
  
“Hi. We’re going to the cafeteria and _not_ think about kissing people,” Albert says sternly.  
  
Thomas looks up. “What?”  
  
x  
  
On Thursday,  
at lunch,  
Carter looks up as Albert and Thomas walk towards their usual lunch table,  
and asks, “Did I look that nervous?”  
  
“Yeah,” Will says, at the same time that Star says, “Not really.”  
  
Car gives his boyfriend a look.   
  
“Okay, maybe a little,” Star admits.  
  
“It’s okay to be nervous,” Albert says as he takes a seat. “New people can be a little scary.  
  
Beside him, Thomas hesitatingly sits down.   
He looks very uncomfortable as he takes his lunch from his backpack.  
  
“As if you ever have trouble talking to people,” Will laughs. “You just straight-up tell them what you want.”  
  
“Do you think it’s strange that I’m nervous?” Thomas says, looking firmly at his lunch box. “You told me you would slash my tires if I didn’t join you for lunch.”  
  
Car nearly chokes on his sandwich. “No way.”  
  
“Albert, you didn’t,” Star says.   
  
“I did,” Albert says. He turns to Thomas. “And I would say it again if it meant getting you here.”  
  
But Thomas isn’t looking at him.  
He’s hiding behind dark curls and hunched shoulders.  
  
“I can’t really believe it,” Car says. “I just don’t think you’d slash someone’s tires.”  
  
Albert rolls his eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t. That’s a crime.”  
  
Jenny walks up to their table. “Hi guy...s…”  
  
_Ah_, Albert thinks a second too late, as he notices what made Jenny pause.  
There’s no chairs left,  
because Thomas is sitting on Jenny’s usual chair.  
  
From the corner of his eye, he sees Thomas tense up, probably realizing this too.  
  
Albert shoots Jenny a panicked, _pleading_ look.  
  
“I’ll just—” Thomas starts, scooting his chair back.  
  
Albert feels his heart sink in his chest, because Thomas is going to leave, but then Jenny grabs a chair from a nearby table and lets herself fall in it.  
  
“No need to move for me,” she says to Thomas. “I’m a feminist. I don’t need guys to give up their seats for me, no matter how sweet the gesture is.”  
  
It’s a bullshit argument, considering that Jenny always bullies Albert to give up his seat for her.  
But Thomas doesn’t know that.   
  
Albert holds his breath as Thomas hesitates for a few seconds.  
Then he scoots his chair forward again.   
  
“If you say so,” he mumbles.  
  
Albert sags in his chair from relief.  
  
“Yeah, no problem!” Jenny smiles. “Do you want me to read your future?”  
  
x  
  
_Three years ago,  
__on a Friday night_.  
  
After changing into comfortable sweatpants and a green hoodie, Albert walked back downstairs.   
  
The corners of his mouth twitched when he saw Thomas sitting on the couch in his oversized Christmas sweater.   
It was the only thing in his closet that was big enough, though.  
  
“Do you want tea?” he asked.   
  
“Were you watching _Ten Things I Hate About You?_”   
  
Albert pushed up his glasses. “Yes.”   
  
“Can I watch it with you?”   
  
“Uh,” Albert said, momentarily surprised. “Yes, of course. Do you want tea or not?”   
  
Thomas was quiet for a while,  
staring down at his hands as he was wringing them nervously.  
  
“I just don’t want to think for a minute,” he whispered.  
  
Albert’s heart clenched. “Yeah, of course. I’ll make some tea and we’ll watch the movie. It’s not very good, though.”   
  
Finally, Thomas looked up.  
  
Though his dark eyes looked sad,   
there was a small smile on his lips.  
  
“Aren’t those the best kinds of movies sometimes?”   
  
Albert returned his hesitant smile. “Yeah.”   
  
x  
  
_Three years ago,  
__on a Friday night,   
__half-way through the movie_.  
  
“I don’t like how they’re talking about the girls,” Thomas commented.  
  
Albert looked up in surprise.  
Thomas was right, of course.  
It was the reason why Jenny never wanted to watch this movie with him.  
  
“Yeah, it’s not okay.”   
  
“They’re depicting them as shallow, even though what they’re saying isn’t dumb. I mean, why _is_ there an overwhelmed and an underwhelmed, but no whelmed? That’s a legit question.”   
  
As he stared at the frown on Thomas Holmes’s face,   
Albert still found it hard to believe what he was hearing.  
  
Obviously, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that Thomas Holmes cared about the depiction of women in movies,   
but it also… wasn’t high up on the list of things Albert had thought Thomas Holmes cared about.  
  
“Yes. I have no idea, actually.” Albert pushed up his glasses. “Do you want me to google it?”   
  
Thomas turned to look at him. “Yeah.”   
  
If only Albert knew where he’d left his phone.   
  
Albert searched his side of the couch, but found nothing. After checking the kitchen and hallway table, the only option left  
was Thomas’s side.   
  
“Sorry,” Albert said, and gestured to the cushions Thomas was sitting on. “Maybe it’s under there.”   
  
“Oh, yeah, no problem.” Thomas got to his feet. “I’ll help you look.”  
  
It didn’t take long.   
Reaching underneath the cushions, Albert’s hand closed around the mobile at the same time as Thomas’s.  
  
“Oh, sorry,” Thomas said quickly.  
  
“Got it,” Albert smiled.  
  
Thomas straightened and sat back down on the couch, but his movements were kind of awkward.  
It made Albert feel slightly awkward too.  
  
He focused on looking up the answer.  
  
“Found it. It’s an archaic word. It means to submerge, or to overcome utterly. I think overwhelm actually took over that meaning though.”   
  
“So, now, whelm would just mean normal?” Thomas asked.  
  
Albert put away his phone.   
  
Thomas was looking curiously at him.  
It looked much better than the total devastation from before,   
and something inside Albert’s chest felt lighter.  
  
“Yeah, that sounds about right. To feel whelmed is to feel normal.”   
  
Thomas fell quiet.   
He looked down at his hands again.   
  
“I get why it isn’t used a lot,” he said quietly. “I don’t think a lot of people feel normal.”   
  
That was true.  
  
Albert rarely felt like he fit in.   
It wasn’t until he met Jenny, Will, and Alistar that he felt like there was a place he could be himself.   
But that didn’t mean he thought of himself as particularly _normal_.  
  
“Yeah,” Albert said quietly. “I feel the same.”   
  
Thomas looked up,   
and even though he didn’t say anything,   
Albert understood that _this_, their conversation, them watching a movie, made Thomas feel just a little bit better.   
  
Albert unpaused the movie.  
  
x  
  
On Friday,  
at lunch,   
Thomas sits beside Albert again.  
  
“Have you ever played D&D?” Will asks directly.   
  
Thomas nearly chokes on his sandwich in surprise. “Uh, no. I played some Runescape though. A long time ago.”   
  
“_Oh my gosh_,” Car says. “Runescape. That takes me back.”   
  
“Did you also play?” Star asks.  
  
“Yeah? No way, you did too?”   
  
“Yeah!” Star says enthusiastically. “I remember putting _so _many hours into finding a buddy for the Shield of Arrav quest.”   
  
“No way, I totally had the same problem.”   
  
Star laughs. “Imagine if we had known each other back then.”   
  
Car turns to his boyfriend with a serious look on his face. “We should complete it now. Get revenge on the quest together.”  
  
“Really?” Star seems to melt on the spot, a soft smile on his face. “You want to befriend me on Runescape?”  
  
“_Anyway_,” Jenny says. “While the two nerds over there fall even more in love with each other, let’s talk about you, Thomas.”  
  
Thomas visibly pales. “Uh.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m curious too. What do you do in your free time?” Will asks. “Like, what’s your favourite movie? Which school subject do you hate?”  
  
“Uh.” Thomas’s eyes drop to his hands. He’s wringing them nervously on his lap. “It’s not that interesting, really.”   
  
Albert can tell the attention is getting too much.   
  
“What kind of question is that?” he asks jokingly. “Which subject do _you_ hate, Will?”   
  
“_Oof_.” Will scrunches up his face. “That’s hard, considering there are so many.”   
  
Jenny laughs. “Right?”   
  
“It’s a tie between math and physics, I think. I don’t like the abstract stuff.”  
  
“Ugh, for me it’s definitely gym,” Jenny says.  
  
“At least you don’t have to run as many laps as the guys,” Will says. “Man, if there’s one thing I miss from before coming out, it’s definitely how little I had to do in gym class.”   
  
“Oh, I thought for sure it would be the not-smelly locker room,” Albert says, smiling.  
  
Will groans. “Don’t remind me.”   
  
“I love gym,” Thomas says quietly. “But I’m no good at languages. I can’t, uh, French.”   
  
“Same,” Jenny says. “I want so badly to be fluent in it, but it’s like. I don’t know, it just sounds shitty when I try to pronounce all those consonants.”   
  
A small smile spreads on Thomas’s lips.   
Not his usual, relaxed, lopsided smile,  
but one that feels hesitantly positive.  
  
It’s progress,  
and it makes Albert happy.   
  
Thomas chooses that moment to look at Albert.   
His eyes widen in surprise, and Albert realizes he’s been watching Thomas with a smile.  
  
“Uh, what about you?” Thomas asks quickly, eyes dropping down again.   
  
“I don’t hate any subject,” Albert says, and then, because he can see Thomas is _trying_, “I really like school.”   
  
It’s the taboo thing to say, usually.  
It’s definitely not considered cool.  
But it’s the truth.  
  
Thomas doesn’t seem to mind, apparently, because he looks up and cracks the lopsided smile that’s quickly becoming Albert’s new favourite thing. “I figured you did.”   
  
“It’s the glasses,” Jenny says. “It makes him look like someone who likes school.”   
  
“I don’t know,” Will says. “I think that without them he looks like a baby.”  
  
“I’m not inviting friends here again,” Albert says. “All you do is insult me.”  
  
“You know we love you,” Jenny says. “That’s why we make fun of you. To show our love.”   
  
Will nods.  
  
Albert rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to tease them right back,  
when he hears beside him, “Can I see what you look like without glasses?”   
  
The question surprises him.  
  
Albert turns to Thomas. “Sure.”   
  
For a split second, he worries he looks awful without his glasses.  
He so rarely takes them off in front of a mirror that he has no idea what he looks like without.   
  
Still.  
It’s Thomas Holmes.  
Albert knows he won’t laugh at him.  
  
When he takes off his glasses, everything behind Thomas becomes blurry,   
unfocused,   
while Thomas becomes the focus of Albert’s world.  
  
Silently, Thomas looks at him.  
Actually _looks_ at him.  
  
“How much can you see right now?”   
  
“I can see you.”  
  
Thomas is silent.   
He doesn’t smile, or joke, or focus on anything other than Albert.  
  
It makes Albert’s heart beat wildly inside his chest,   
wilder than when his mouth was on Thomas’s.  
  
“And?” Albert asks, when the staring becomes a little much. “How do I look?”   
  
“Like you’re looking into the sun,” Thomas says seriously.   
  
A surprised laugh escapes Albert’s lips. “Thanks.”  
  
Thomas smiles too.   
  
“Well,” Will says. “I still think he looks like a baby.”   
  
“Yeah,” Jenny nods.  
  
x  
  
On Friday,  
at the end of the school day,  
they’re walking towards Thomas’s truck.  
  
The stares are finally getting less, Albert notices.  
Not that he minds them any less.  
  
It makes him feel oddly protective of Thomas.   
  
He wants to stand in front of him, even though with Thomas’s height it would be fairly pointless, and shout at the others that they don’t know, they just don’t _know_ what a wonderful person Thomas is.   
They don’t know that he’s a feminist,  
that his injuries are from trees and rocks and science,  
and that he has trouble talking to people because his parents were never good at communicating.  
  
“You okay?” Thomas asks, startling Albert out of his thoughts.  
  
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“You’re frowning.” Thomas tilts his head slightly. “Almost glaring. Like you want to slash someone’s tires.”  
  
Albert huffs out a surprised laugh. “You know I wouldn’t.”  
  
“Nah, I’m not so sure.”  
  
When Albert turns to Thomas in shock, he finds Thomas smiling at him, obviously teasing.  
Teasing Albert for the first time.   
Like friends do.  
  
Albert’s heart dances inside his chest.   
  
x  
  
Time has never crept by for Albert,  
but with Thomas in his every day,   
it just flies by.   
  
It’s a nice and slightly stressful feeling.   
Sometimes, Albert wants to hold onto the time he’s spending with Thomas,   
but finds it as untouchable as gravity.   
  
x  
  
On a Sunday morning,   
two weeks before the end of the school year,  
his father looks up from the TV and asks, “Why don’t you take the car to school anymore?”  
  
Everyone in the room,  
which are Albert’s mom _and_ brother, so literally everyone,  
looks up in surprise.  
  
“Didn’t you notice?” Albert’s mom asks.   
  
“Notice what? We took the car to the garage _weeks _ago, so that can’t be the problem.”  
  
“He’s been driving to school with Thomas Holmes,” his brother explains.  
  
His father’s eyebrows raise. “From across the street?”  
  
“Yes,” Albert says.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Opposite Albert, his brother rolls his eyes. “Because he’s in love with him, obviously.”  
  
The words hit Albert in the gut,   
and he’s glad he’s sitting down, or else he would’ve done something embarrassing like hold on to a chair for support.  
  
“Honestly, darling,” his mother says, and leans over to pat their father on the leg. “You’re so slow on the uptake sometimes.”  
  
“He’s always slow with that sorta stuff,” Albert’s brother says.   
  
“Don’t remind me,” their mother says fondly. “I remember how long it took him to figure out I liked him!”  
  
Albert feels like he’s underwater.  
It isn’t a nice feeling.  
  
Slowly, he turns to look at his parents on the couch.   
His father in particular.  
  
It’s true that his father is never really interested in relationships,   
and that he doesn’t pick up on them the way his mother or brother do.  
  
Albert knows he has that from his father.  
But what is _that_?  
  
_That _doesn’t feel like it’s just liking boys.  
_That_ feels like it’s more than gender,  
and at the same time, _that_ feels like it’s the basis of everything.   
  
“Are you okay, Albert?” his father asks, looking at him in concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
  
“Not a ghost,” Albert says. He forces himself to blink. “I think I’m like you.”  
  
“Well, I know that’s true,” his mother laughs. “The both of you can be so clueless. Remember that girl in fifth grade, Albert? The one who liked you? You didn’t realize you were dating until someone asked and she said yes.”  
  
“Could you blame him?” his father says. “She didn’t actually ask him.”  
  
“I’m not clueless,” Albert says, and the answer to the question, to _the_ question, is suddenly so very obvious that he can’t help but smile in relief. “I’m demisexual.”  
  
x  
  
On a Sunday night,  
two weeks before the end of the school year,  
Albert lies in bed and suddenly remembers his brother’s words.  
  
“_Because he’s in love with him, obviously.”__  
__  
_Albert’s heart pounds in his chest.  
He feels like he’s run a lap around the football field,  
out of breath and slightly dizzy.  
  
He reaches for his phone and squints as the blue light nearly blinds him.  
  
[Albert]  
I’m in love with Thomas Holmes  
  
When he sees the words written down,   
he feels a sudden rush of fear and excitement all at once.  
  
Then his phone buzzes.   
  
[Jenny]  
Yes, you are  
  
Smiling, Albert lets himself fall back on the bed.  
  
x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; “Are you going to Lea Petersen’s party on Friday night?” 
> 
> EEP. Next chapter is already the last one!! I had such a hard time keeping this story short, haha, because I was having so much fun writing :D  
I hope you're having fun reading!! Let me know what you think, if you want :)  
(also i highly recommend rewatching 10 Things I Hate About You, even though that movie has a lot of issues)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!! 
> 
> I'm so happy, and a little sad, to share the end of this story with you. I had so much fun writing it, so I hope you had and have fun reading it!
> 
> Btw, the song I listened to on repeat while writing this is "Teenage Dream - Boyce Avenue". It just. felt so very sweet. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Monday morning,  
the next day,  
Albert feels like he’s about to give a speech in front of the entire school.  
  
His stomach is clenching and unclenching,  
his hands are slightly sweaty,  
and he keeps wanting to check how he looks.   
  
But he’s only walking towards Thomas’s truck.  
  
Leaning against the car, Thomas is looking at something on his phone.   
It’s warmer now, so he’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt.   
  
When Albert stops in front of him,  
Thomas puts away his phone and gives him a relaxed, lopsided smile.   
  
“Morning, Al.”  
  
“Good morning, Thomas. Reading up on the news?”  
  
“Nah. Just checking Twitter.”  
  
“Like a responsible millennial.”  
  
“Exactly,” Thomas laughs.  
  
Albert fishes the truck keys out of his pocket and unlocks the car. They both get in, put on their seatbelts at the exact same time, and as Albert checks the mirrors, Thomas turns the radio on.  
  
“Think you’re gonna do well today?” Albert asks, as he drives out the driveway.  
  
“Should hope so. I didn’t go hiking all weekend, just so I could study.”  
  
Albert shoots Thomas a quick smile. “I’m so proud of you.”  
  
“Though I did play Runescape with Car and Star last night…” Thomas continues.   
  
“Introducing you was a bad choice.”  
  
“To be fair, Star told me to stop playing and go study.”  
  
Albert shakes his head. “But Star is good at history, and you couldn’t care less.”  
  
“Don’t worry, I studied all weekend. But I appreciate that you’re concerned about me,” Thomas smiles.   
  
Albert turns to catch the smile,  
but instead meets Thomas’s eyes.   
  
His heart jumps in his chest.  
  
_I’m in love with you_.  
  
The knowledge burns in his mind and mouth,  
wanting to be spoken aloud,   
wanting to be shared.  
  
Instead, for the first time in forever, it’s Albert who looks away first.  
  
“Are you going to Lea Petersen’s party on Friday night?”   
  
“Uh, dunno.” Thomas shifts in his seat. “Maybe. They’re okay.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
The song on the radio fades out, and a more upbeat pop song starts playing.  
  
Albert can feel Thomas’s eyes on him.  
  
“Are you going?” Thomas asks eventually.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Oh.” Thomas shifts in his seat again. “Well, maybe I’ll go too then.”  
  
Albert’s heart jumps _again_.   
It’s getting a little ridiculous.   
  
“Yeah,” Albert says, forcing himself to sound casual. “That would be fun.”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
x  
  
Monday,  
at lunch,  
Thomas, Car, and Star are so engrossed in their conversation about Runescape that it allows Jenny and Albert to have a somewhat private conversation.  
  
Private, because Will is always asleep on Monday’s.  
  
“I can’t believe another year’s almost over,” Jenny sighs. She smooths down the see-through fabric of her dress. “Another year without Rose Robinson knowing my name.”  
  
“I’m sure she knows your name,” Albert says.  
  
“That’s just because she’s super nice. She’s probably one of those people who make an effort to remember the names of the people in their class.”  
  
“Most likely.”  
  
“There’s only one more year after this, Albert. And then I’m never going to see Rose again.”  
  
“You don’t know that.”  
  
“Well, the cards weren’t very positive about our future.”  
  
_Our  
_meaning Rose Robinson and Jenny Ward.  
  
Albert takes Jenny’s hands before she can start picking at her nail polish.  
  
“Jenny,” he says. “If I can figure out my sexuality, you can figure out a way to make Rose Robinson talk to you.”  
  
Jenny’s grey eyes stare at him.   
She looks like she wants to say something, but then she changes her mind and smiles.   
  
“Thanks.”

“Maybe you just need to do something the cards won’t be able to predict.”  
  
x  
  
Monday morning,  
a minute after lunch,  
Jenny runs after Albert.  
  
“Hey, hold up! I haven’t asked you about The Thing yet!”  
  
“I have a test now, though,” Albert says.  
  
“I’ll powerwalk with you.”  
  
Albert shrugs. “Okay.”  
  
They weave through the crowd of chatting students. Most are looking at their school books with panicked looks on their faces.   
The last two weeks of the school year are stressful for nearly everyone.  
  
“So what happened?” Jenny asks.  
  
Albert tells her about what happened on Sunday and the conversation he had with his family.  
  
“Wow. And they’re cool with you liking Thomas?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Awesome.”  
  
Albert nods.  
  
“So what now?” Jenny asks. “Are you going to ask him out?”  
  
It’s the question Albert’s dreaded.  
Mostly because he _just_ found the answer to the other question, the one that had been haunting him for months.  
  
The other question  
_Do I like boys?  
  
_The short version of the answer  
_I like Thomas Holmes_.  
  
“I don’t know,” Albert says, frustrated. “I feel nauseous when I think about him knowing.”  
  
“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” Jenny says. “I’m pretty sure he likes you too.”  
  
Yet her answer doesn’t make Albert feel less nauseous.  
  
Because she could be wrong.  
But she could also be right, and that’s just it.   
  
The problem:  
Albert doesn’t know.   
  
And he doesn’t like not knowing.  
  
x  
  
It’s Friday night,   
and there’s a party in the neighbourhood.   
  
The music is loud, but not absurdly so.   
  
Like last time, there’s barely any lights on in the house, but it hasn’t prompted people to do the improper things someone so clearly hopes they would. Everyone is still just playing _Mario Kart _and _Just Dance_.  
  
Albert looks around.   
His stomach feels queasy, and he has the urge to run his hands through his hair, even though he can’t because he blow dried it.  
  
“Hey, Albert!” Lea Petersen calls out when he wanders into the kitchen. She’s sitting on the counter with a red cup in her hand.   
  
“Hey, Petersen,” Albert says, walking over to her. “How’s it going?”   
  
“_Fantastic_. We’re almost done with school, dude!”   
  
Not really, though.  
  
"There’s still a few tests next week," he says.   
  
Lea groans “_Ugh_, don’t remind me. Seriously, don’t. I’m here because I_ don’t_ want to think about school.”   
  
“Fair enough.”   
  
Albert goes to make himself something alcoholic.   
  
“Hey, you remember that truth or dare from last time?” Lea asks suddenly.  
  
Albert takes a sip of his bacardi coke and tries not to wince.   
It's still not very good.  
  
“I do,” he says.  
  
"Let's do it again," she says, and hops off the kitchen counter. "I’ll call everyone."  
  
Before Albert can give his opinion on her suggestion, Lea is already yelling at everyone in the living room.   
She’s met with whoops and cheers, and Albert wonders briefly if he can sneak away, when the door opens again.   
  
“Yeah, I’ll join you,” he sighs, then pauses when he sees who it is.  
  
Thomas Holmes.  
  
He’s put something in his hair.  
And he’s wearing a new shirt.  
He’s put _effort_ into his looks.   
  
Thomas smiles. “Well, you don’t sound very enthusiastic.”  
  
“Thomas,” Albert says, surprised.  
  
“Hi.”   
  
It takes Albert a moment to stop staring. “What are you doing here?”   
  
“Uh.” Thomas shuffles his feet and looks to the side. “Thought you wanted me to come.”   
  
“I did! I do,” Albert says immediately. “Sorry, I meant, what are you doing here in the kitchen?”  
  
“I was looking for you. Didn’t think I’d find you with the booze though.”  
  
Albert laughs. “You know me,” he jokes.  
  
They fall silent.   
Through the door, they can hear Lea calling everyone to join her in the living room.   
Her voice is quite loud.  
  
“I think Lea Petersen wants to play another game of truth or dare.”   
  
Thomas cracks his lopsided smile. “Yeah, I heard.”   
  
They both fall silent again.  
  
There’s something different about these silences as opposed to the comfortable ones they have in the car.  
  
Suddenly feeling awkward, Albert walks towards the drinks and picks up a bottle at random. “Can I make you something?”   
  
“Just a beer is fine,” Thomas says.  
  
The beers are in the fridge.   
When Albert turns his back to Thomas to get one, some of his tension bleeds away.   
  
Oh.  
Is this the reason why Thomas sometimes looks away?   
  
Cold beer in hand, Albert turns around and startles when Thomas is closer than he thought.   
  
“Thanks,” Thomas smiles, and takes the beer.  
  
Their fingers brush for a second.  
  
“No problem,” Albert says.  
  
They both take a sip of their drinks.   
It feels awkward, and Abert doesn’t know what to do about it.   
His bacardi coke burns and fizzles in his throat.  
  
“Listen, Al,” Thomas starts, at the same time that the door flies open.  
  
Lea Petersen is standing in the doorway with a big smile on her face. “Albert!” she half-shouts. “Come join us for truth or dare!”  
  
“Uh,” Albert says.  
  
Then, Lea Petersen notices Thomas Holmes.   
  
“Oh,” she says. “Thomas. You can join too, if you want.”   
  
He could.  
  
They could.   
They could partake in the illusion that they’re playing a game instead of creating an environment where it’s acceptable to make people do sexually-tinted activities.   
  
Like kissing.  
  
Though Albert doesn’t know everything,   
he knows he doesn’t want to watch Thomas Holmes kiss someone else.  
  
“Lea?” Albert asks. “Can you give us a minute?”   
  
Lea raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, uh, sure. Take your time. But not too long, or else you’re gonna miss all the fun!”  
  
_Doubtful_.  
  
She closes the door,  
and suddenly it’s just Thomas Holmes and Albert Meadows again.  
  
“You don’t want to join?” Thomas asks.  
  
“No,” Albert answers truthfully. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes a step closer to Thomas. “Do I need to play truth or dare to kiss you again?”   
  
Thomas nearly spits out his beer.  
He doesn’t, though a little drips down his mouth.   
With a red face, Thomas quickly wipes it away.  
  
“It’s not a dare for me to kiss you,” Albert continues, because this is the part where he’s supposed to be romantic. “It’s never been. I’m not afraid of you.”   
  
Thomas looks like he’s torn between fainting and laughing. “I, uh, I know that. I was kinda hoping for more than _not afraid_ though.”  
  
Albert takes another step closer, nearly pressing Thomas against the kitchen counter.   
  
“Thomas Holmes,” he says seriously. “I’m in love with you.”   
  
Thomas just stares at him.   
  
“Well?” Albert asks nervously. His heart is slamming against his chest and he’s sure his hands are shaking.  
  
“I just wasn’t—I didn’t—” Thomas laughs quietly, apparently at a loss for words.  
  
“Can I kiss you?” Albert asks, because a direct question will always lead to the clearest answer.  
  
Looking wholly overwhelmed,   
Thomas merely nods shakily.  
  
Because Thomas is still a fair bit taller, Albert moves onto his tiptoes and slips a hand around the back of Thomas’s neck to pull him down.   
  
It seems the most logical,  
meeting each other halfway.  
  
Except logic is thrown out the window when Albert presses his lips against Thomas’s mouth.  
  
_Oh,_ he thinks.   
  
This is what they do in movies.  
This is usually the part where he goes up to get something to drink,  
where he quickly checks his phone or maybe cracks a joke.  
  
A cheesy pop song is even playing in the background.  
  
But kissing Thomas Holmes isn’t a joke.  
  
Unlike last time, their mouths are moving _together_ now,  
and it’s good.  
Really good.  
  
Albert’s heart is pounding in his chest, and his hands haven’t stopped shaking, and even though his stomach has turned into mush, somehow, it all feels _wonderful_.  
  
Albert wants more.  
  
He leans back with great difficulty. “I said last time I wouldn’t do tongue, but if you don’t mind, I’d really like—”   
  
Thomas grabs Albert’s middle and pulls him flush against him. “Yes,” is all he says, before leaning in and kissing Albert deeply.   
  
When their tongues touch for the first time, it’s not awkward or grossly _wet_ like Albert had anticipated.   
Instead, it sends a thrill down his spine.   
It makes goosebumps rise on his arms, because—and the answer turns out to be really simple—it’s _Thomas,   
_and Albert cares about him.   
  
Wanting to get even closer, Albert wraps his arms around Thomas’s neck. In response, Thomas sighs in his mouth and moves—  
  
The kitchen door opens again.   
  
Albert and Thomas quickly break apart, but it’s just a kid who looks kind of awkward at having interrupted them.  
  
“I’m just getting something to drink,” the kid laughs awkwardly.   
  
And that’s what they do.  
  
While the kid pours his drink, Thomas gently brushes back Albert’s hair.  
It makes Albert’s chest feel warm. He smiles and brushes a finger over Thomas’s cheekbone and the tiny scar there.  
  
Thomas turns his head and kisses the palm of Albert’s hand.   
  
“I fell down a rock,” he says.  
  
“I’m sorry?”   
  
“The scar.” Thomas tilts his hand and places a kiss on Albert’s wrist. “That’s how I got it.”   
  
“Oh. Why did it scar?”   
  
“I didn’t treat the wound until hours later. I didn’t want to go home.”   
  
Albert’s heart clenches.   
He leans in and presses a kiss against Thomas’s forehead.   
  
It’s just a small kiss,  
but it unwinds something inside Thomas.  
  
Without a word, he wraps his arms around Albert’s waist and buries his face in Albert’s shoulder.   
  
The hug feels fragile.  
  
But more than that,   
it feels like words Thomas can’t say,  
because he doesn’t know how.  
  
Not yet, anyway.   
  
Albert wraps his arms around Thomas and says, “I know.”  
  
Because he does.  
  
x  
  
_Three years ago,  
__on a Friday night,   
__the movie ends_.  
  
Loud pop music blared through the living room.  
  
Albert reached for the remote and turned off the sound.   
But it didn’t turn off the rain falling on the earth’s surface.  
  
“Do you want more tea?” Albert asked, even though he didn’t want to get up.   
  
Getting up meant leaving the comfortable warmth of the blanket draped over their legs.   
  
“No,” Thomas answered. “I think I need to go.”  
  
“You don’t need to,” Albert said quickly.   
  
Thomas looked down at his hands,  
and smiled.  
  
Outside, the wind howled.  
Inside, on the TV, the movies’ bloopers played.   
Thomas watched them for a few, silent seconds, then moved to his feet, the blanket falling off of them both.   
  
“I wonder if that ever happens in real life,” he said.   
  
“Getting hired by a kid to date a girl so he can date her sister?”  
  
“Nah. Happy endings.”  
  
For someone who watched something end today,  
it wasn’t a weird question to ask.  
  
“Sure,” Albert said. “It’s not impossible.”  
  
“You really believe that?”  
  
Albert believed in science.  
But he also believed in Thomas’s determination.  
  
“I believe you’ll get through this,” he said. “And that you’re going to get the happy ending you want. With cheesy pop songs and all.”  
  
Thomas smiled. “Great. They were the best part of the movie.”  
  
The best part of the evening  
definitely wasn’t watching Thomas put on his wet shoes,   
or hold his wet clothes in his hands.   
  
“I should get you a bag,” Albert said.   
  
For some reason, it felt like he was stalling.   
For some reason, he felt like saying, _why don’t you just stay the night?_ _We can watch more cheesy teen movies.  
_  
“No, that’s—”  
  
“It’ll only take a second!”  
  
It did.   
Stuffed in a crate in the hallway were at least a dozen bags. They had a bit of a plastic bag problem at the Meadow house.  
  
Albert grabbed one, took Thomas’s wet clothes from him and stuffed them in the bag.   
  
“There,” he said.   
  
“Thanks.” Thomas looked down at his sweater. At _Albert’s_ sweater. “Um. I can wash this, and give it back tomorrow.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t need it back.”  
  
Thomas seemed to hesitate. “Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes. It fits you better.”  
  
Thomas’s hand tightened around the plastic bag.   
It crinkled loudly.  
  
“Alright,” he said eventually.   
  
When Albert opened the door, the cold and the rain assaulted their faces and ears.   
  
Albert shivered, but Thomas didn’t.   
He just stepped outside like it wasn’t nearly storming.   
  
Albert watched him.  
For a second, he was afraid Thomas would walk away without looking back,   
because if Thomas didn’t look back,  
it would feel like this strange evening had never happened.   
  
But Thomas did.  
  
He looked back and cracked a lopsided smile. “This was fun, Al. Thanks.”  
  


  
THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"I know you get me_   
_so I'll let my walls come down."_
> 
> Thank you so incredibly much for reading! It means the world to me that you gave my original writing a shot. I hope you had a good time ♡
> 
> And let me know what you thought, if you want?  
You can find me on tumblr at idnis, and on twitter @idnis9.  
Thank you!!! ♡♡


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